Black stars on white, thumb and index on lips
rolling with your sports yoyo and red lipstick.
all your visible veins are non-passive,
as I view from your thick lenses behind retrospective.

That filthy container where you're sipping liquid
rebellious crown you're sporting is quite cursive.
hideous mask can't contain your heavy hormones,
when I caught you peeking on the corner wear-ons.

From the corner spot, I can't think of any jargons,
Of words nor dragons I could use, money or mansions
I'm just a steady monkey of potential and future,
Eagled eye but not haunting or never sure.